A Time of Fracture
by Cyan Hide
Summary: The Sixth Doctor and Peri arrive in Westeros, and thanks to their presence, change the timeline by saving Robert Baratheon's life when he is supposed to have been killed by a boar. Now deeply involved in the chain of events that follows, can the Doctor and Peri escape the Game of Thrones with their lives?
1. A CHOIR OF BONES: Prologue

**PERI**

Peri was standing at the TARDIS console, staring at the dials in front of her, trying to be distracted by the coat draped over a rail to the left of her. It was a multicoloured monstrosity that she'd probably never stand to look at, let alone get used to. A voice called out from under the console.

"Okay, Peri. Read out the numbers."

"Okay, Doctor. 17, 21, 14, wait, the 14 changed to fifteen."

"Fifteen? Are you sure?" The Doctor crawled out from under the console and looked at the readings himself. He was silent for a few seconds.

"Is...Is something wrong, Doctor?" Peri asked.

"Wrong?...WRONG?! We're falling out of flux with the time vortex! Of course it's wrong!"

"In English, Doctor?"

"In English, Peri, hold on to something." The Doctor replied as the TARDIS shook with the magnitude of a moderately powerful Earthquake.

Perpugilliam Brown, or 'Peri' for short, had been travelling with the Doctor for what had been at least six months her time. She was a botany student who was saved from drowning by him. At first, the Doctor was a nice, caring man with an undeniable charm that made you want to follow him anywhere, but then he changed. He became...not that. Despite that, he was still undeniably the Doctor. He strived to do the right thing, and if there was a problem, he would not rest until he had fixed it, and people were happy. Peri could at least admire that, if not his ego, attitude or dress sense, all equally terrible.

The shaking stops. The Doctor instantly springs back up, opens the doors and grabs his coat, starting to put it on.

"Come on, Peri," He near shouted, the excitement of adventure taking over him, "Let's see where we've ended up this time. Peri sighed, rolled her eyes, and followed him out.

They were in a forest. It looked just like Earth.

"Doctor, this looks like...Earth."

"Looks like, sounds like, smells like. Even has the same air, but something tells me it isn't." The Doctor furrowed his brow. "Peri, stop...can you hear that?"

Peri listened carefully, and she could hear it. The sound of hoof beats and men's shouts in the distance. Before she could say anything, the Doctor was already striding towards the sounds. "Doctor, wait!"

She saw a party of men in medieval-looking armour. They were chasing a boar. The boar turned back and was starting to charge towards the fat, bearded one, but it saw the Doctor and, getting frightened by the number of humans around it, fled. The fat, bearded man got off his horse and grabbed the Doctor by the scruff of his neck, drink in his breath.

"What do you think you're doing, you darned fool? I almost hat that pig!"

"From the way I saw it, he almost had you," The Doctor replied, perfectly calm and even a little condescending. He shook free of the man's grip and straightened his polka-dot cravat.

"You will address King Robert Baratheon as 'your Grace'," said a mousy blond man by the King's side, holding the wine, and looking annoyed, though not at the Doctor, but something else. The Doctor smiled begrudgingly.

"Where are you supposed to be from anyway, talking an' dressing like that?" demanded the King. The Doctor's smile grew a little.

"I am a traveller, and I'm not from here. I'm a Time Lord, from the planet Gallifrey, in the constellation of Kasterborous," the Doctor replied. The whole party was silent. Finally, the King replied.

"You're coming back with me to King's Landing. We'll find out who you are."

The King and his men set off in the direction they came from when the Doctor saw them. The Doctor followed behind, and Peri followed behind him.

"I wish you'd be more respectful to people, Doctor. I don't think he likes us now."

"My dear Peri," The Doctor replied. "If he didn't like us, I've a feeling we'd be dead."

"That's reassuring..." She responded sarcastically.

When they got to the gates, the King and his men went inside, while the Doctor and Peri remained outside. After a long time waiting, a bald man in a gold robe approached them, his face blank, though there was an air of being pleased about him that was somewhat comforting and eerie at the same time.

"I had heard there were two strange people at the gates. I heard right. You don't look like you're from anywhere I can place in all of Westeros or Essos. Tell me, where are you from?"

"Oh, my friend, we come from a place much, much further away than anywhere you'd have heard of."

"I should doubt that," the man pondered, with a cock of his head and the tiniest hint of an unsure expression,"...but I don't."

"I'm the Doctor, and this is my assistant, Peri."

"Welcome to King's Landing, Doctor. My name is Varys. I would like to know more about you and where you're from. You are something of a puzzle to me, and I enjoy puzzles."

"Well then," said the Doctor, walking with him, hands in pockets, "I would like to know more about where exactly I am and what is going on here. I'm out of the loop, as you'd say."

"I don't believe I'm quite familiar with that expression."

Peri watched the two men go. Both of them were total enigmas to her, but at least she could trust the Doctor, and the Doctor seemed to trust Varys, or at least trusted himself more than he distrusted him. Peri shrugged her shoulders in frustration and followed the two reluctantly. She could already tell this wasn't going to be a fun trip.


	2. Eddard

**EDDARD**

Eddard Stark hobbled to the King's chambers, leaning heavily on his cane. The cobbled floors of the castle were not helping the pain he suffered every time he took a step. Damn the Kingslayer. Damn him. It was Jaime Lannister who inflicted this injury upon him. It was an act Ned Stark wouldn't soon forget, or forgive.

He approaches the door to the King's chambers, and knocks. A voice inside beckons him in. A woman's voice. Cersei is with him. Seven Hells. This meeting was not going to go well. He opened the door, and stepped inside. Robert Baratheon was sitting on the bed, clearly still drunk. His wife, Cersei Lannister, was with him.

"Your Grace," Ned began.

"Spare me your formalities, Ned." The King Replied.

"Robert, I need to talk to you. I need to talk to you about Joffrey. Alone." He glared at Cersei as he uttered the word 'alone'. She glared right back, with her false smile looking particularly crooked and menacing.

"What, and tell me he ain't mine?" The King laughed heartily. "I'm no fool, Ned. I know it's not mine. No idea who the father is, though it'd take a sadistic, twisted man to spawn a boy like Joffrey."

Cersei visibly winced at his words directed towards her son, and his true father. Ned chuckled as much as he'd dare too, and rubbed the knee that Jaime had ruined.

"Aye, a very sadistic man..."

Cersei cleared her throat. She knew that Ned was just insulting her and Jaime at this point. Her incestuous relationship with her brother had spawned Joffrey, but to the realm, Joffrey was a Baratheon, the son of Robert, and heir to the throne. Ned had figured out that he was illegitimate and could not be heir. His knowledge would also put Cersei and Jaime behind bars. If it were anyone else, they may have also been executed, but Cersei and Jaime were the children of Tywin Lannister, who the crown owed a lot of money to. Playing the game of thrones was like trying to cross a raging river by stepping on Eggshells. Ned recalled Cersei's own words to him earlier that day; "When you play the game of thrones, you win or you die." It was some comfort that she was losing at the moment.

"Was that all you came to talk to me about, Ned?" The king inquired, shuffling further onto the bed and laying down. "The wine's getting to my head. I want both of you out. Give me some damn peace...Oh, Ned. There's a letter on the shelf to your left. I want it delivered to Varys. He's with some foreign fool in a ridiculous coat and his wench, outside the Castle."

"And what does it say?" Ned asked, suspiciously, as Cersei strode past him and out the door. This matter didn't concern her and she knew it. She no doubt had gone away to plot, scheme, and contact her father too, probably.

"You know what it says, Ned. I won't sleep easy until the Targaryen girl's dead, her false king brother's dead, her unborn son's dead, her barbarian husband's dead, and her army of Dothraki savages have crawled back into the holes they came out of. Give it to Varys. I'll know if you haven't."

Ned bowed, turned, and left the room, shutting the door behind him. He didn't want to deliver this letter, but it was a crime to disobey a King's orders. Curse Robert. He would give it to Varys, but first, he needed to speak to Renly. He spotted Renly near the council chamber, and approached him.

"My Lord," Eddard called, "I need you assistance on a matter of inheritance."

"Ah, Hello, Eddard," Renly replied. "What can I do for you?"

"There is evidence on my desk in the Tower of the Hand that Joffrey is a product of Incest between Cersei and Jaime. I ask you to hold a meeting and invite all parties concerned, and confront your brother and Cersei with the evidence."

"Of course, Ned," said Renly, starting to walk away. "Oh, and Ned," he added, "Thank you."

It was no secret that the three Baratheon brothers disliked each other. Robert won the throne with a war hammer while Renly merely sat in his small council. Stannis was treated even worse, shipped off to Dragonstone to pickle in bitterness and resentment. Eddard would write a letter to Stannis too, informing him of this development, but first he would pay a visit to Varys, and give him the letter, he was also mildly curious of the foreigner that Robert mentioned.

Eddard continued on his journey to the courtyard outside the Castle. There he saw Varys, conversing with the foreigner. Robert wasn't half kidding about his coat. He approached them.

"Ah, Eddard Stark," mused Varys, softly. "What are you doing out here, unless you have business with either me or our guests."

"I have a letter from the king for you, Varys. It's orders regarding Daenerys Targaryen," Eddard spoke, uneasy. Varys' face showed signs of understanding and pity, but knowing the Spider, they were false.

"My Lord, I understand that you do not like the choices we must make, but it is for the good of the realm. How will honour help us when the Dothraki army arrive on our shores?"

Eddard didn't want to argue. He'd already been down that road. He silently handed the letter to Varys, and Varys took his leave. The stranger in the strange coat raised his eyebrow.

"And what were the contents of that letter?" He asked.

"What business is it of yours?" Ned snapped back. The stranger raised his hands in a 'surrender' pose.

"None whatsoever. I apologize." He replied, before offering his hand. "But let's not introduce each other on bad first impressions. I'm the Doctor, and this is Peri."

Eddard shook the Doctor's hand. He did not seem sly. He almost had a child's energy about him, but he did seem intelligent and in control, and in Eddard's experience, that combination was dangerous.

"Eddard Stark, Hand of the King," Eddard replied.

"Varys was just educating me on the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros. I'm not from here, you see, and neither is Peri."

"I see. So are you both from the free cities?"

"We are from a lot further away that the free cities. Much, much further away."

Eddard pondered their words. They were not from Westeros or Essos. Not many knew much of any lands beyond the two continents, or even if there were lands beyond the two continents. These two strangers were a complete mystery, and a mystery that needed solving. However, there were bigger and more urgent matters to attend to. He would humour them for a little longer, but he needed to write that letter to Stannis, and then there was the meeting that Renly was organizing. Hopefully that would go smoothly.


	3. Sansa

**SANSA**

Sansa Stark was in her room at King's Landing, admiring the necklace that Joffrey had given her. She had seen an ugly side to him when he fought with her sister, but now she was sure that he was a gentleman deep down. Arya kept calling her a fool, as had a few other people. Joffrey wasn't well loved in King's Landing. They just didn't see what she saw.

There was a knock at the door. It was Ser Barristan Selmy.

"My Lady, your Grace requires your presence. There is a meeting of family importance." He left the room the moment those words were spoken, and she followed.

She arrived at the council chamber, where they were all gathered. She looked among the faces she knew. There was Lord Baelish, Lord Varys, Grand Maester Pycelle, Joffrey, Cersei, King Robert, but...her father was missing. She took her place beside her Joffrey. Varys was impassive. Baelish was smiling, though even Sansa could tell it was a false smile, practically a frown. Cersei was even worse; she looked like a scared and cornered lion. She looked dangerous. She looked around some more. Joffrey was bored and slightly confused. He did not know why they were here, and didn't look to care much. Pycelle really wasn't happy with the situation. He was openly frowning. King Robert looked impatient and uncomfortable. He spared her a quick glance, and she knew from his face that he pitied her for coming here. The door opened, and her head snapped straight forward, attentive.

Renly Baratheon, the King's brother, entered, carrying several tomes and parchments, which he laid on the table. Renly was said to have looked a lot like Robert. Looking between the fat king and his lean, some might even say muscular brother, Sansa guessed that they had meant back in Robert's heyday, and not now, after the years of ruling had spoiled the King's figure.

"You may be wondering why I insisted you all be summoned here." Renly began. "I understand that Lord Eddard approached the King and Queen earlier today, accusing Joffrey of being a born out of wedlo..."

Renly didn't even finish that sentence before Joffrey stood up, anger on fury on his face, but before he could speak, Cersei pulled down on his tunic. He looked down at her, his piercing blue eyes trying to pierce a hole through here, but she shook her head, and tugged on his tunic again. He reluctantly sat down, but his mood was soured. The King had found some wine and was drinking it right now, but he missed something Sansa saw; Cersei and Pycelle shared a glance as he drank. Sansa found this odd, but thought nothing else of it. Renly continued talking.

"As I was saying. I know what I'm about to say might come as a shock, but I hold proof that Joffrey was born of Incest between Cersei and her brother Jaime Lannister!"

The room was soon in uproar. Joffrey started shouting at his own mother, who grinned and took it, though it clearly pained her to do so. Robert sprang straight up to examine the proof. Pycelle pointed to Renly and accused him of lies, slander and heresy. Varys sighed, and Baelish was gone from the room completely. Sansa just sat there, scared and confused by all the shouting going on around her.

"ENOUGH!" bellowed the king, as he coughed. "I cannot and will not let incest go unpunished in MY OWN CASTLE!" He pointed at Cersei as he coughed again. "We all know the punishment of the perversion and dishonour you have brought upon me, woman." He spluttered. "Take her to the dungeons. Tomorrow, she will be...she will be..."

Sansa knew the punishment for incest was death by the laws of the Seven Kingdoms, but she was wandering why the king was hesitating to issue that order. That's when she saw the blood coming from his mouth. He collapsed on the floor. Renly called in the Kingsguard who were standing outside, but they could not save him as he choked to death.

Sansa looked to Joffrey, who was more furious than ever, but there were tears rolling down his cheeks. Sansa had never seen him cry before. It was a shocking sight. She looked Cersei dead in the eye, and the Queen smiled back. Sansa knew. Sansa now knew what that look shared with Pycelle meant. Cersei had poisoned her own husband, before he could sentence her to death.

"You did this! You killed him!"

The words were not Sansa's, but Joffrey's, pointing at his mother with such a deep hatred that she couldn't take it. She couldn't take her own son looking at her like that. She started to stride out of the room, but Renly blocked her path, and two Kingsguard grabbed her by the arms and took her away. Pycelle, too. Robert's body was carried out, and Renly followed it.

Soon, Sansa, Joffrey and Varys were the only ones in the room. Sansa tried to put her hand on Joffrey's shoulder, but he shrugged it off, stood up and walked out without a word. She understood. He needed to be alone, just as she did the day her father's knee was injured by Jaime Lannister.

She sat there for what seemed like hours. Varys had tried to get her to leave but she refused. Eventually, her father stood at the door, resting on his cane, looking far sadder than she was. Without a word between either of them, she got up and hugged him. Without even willing it, she wept into his chest. He patted her back, and held her all the way to her room, wincing as he had to hobble up the steps. Finally, once they reached her room, he spoke.

"You shouldn't have had to witness that." He said softly. She looked up at him.

"I'll be seeing much worse things in my life, won't I?" She replied. He paused.

"Yes, love, but I am very, very proud of you for coming through it."

"What happens now?" She asked. "With Joffrey I mean. I still want to marry him."

"I don't know what happens now, Love," he replied quietly. "I don't know."


	4. Bran

**BRAN**

Bran Stark was sitting beside his brother Robb, the Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North in his father's absence. He didn't want to be here, but Maester Luwin had insisted, saying it was good practice for when Bran would eventually take that spot, just as other Brandons had done before him. Brandon the Builder, Brandon the Burner, Brandon the Bad...what would his name be? Brandon the Broken?

Bran had no hope of becoming a knight since the fall that paralysed his legs, but it didn't deterring from really, really wanting to. He found these meet and greets boring and tedious, and get got the impression that so did Robb.

The next guests were ushered in. Two Craggonmen, a boy and a girl, though they were near children, not much older than Bran himself. The girl carried a net and a three pronged spear on her back. The boy was staring right at Bran while the girl spoke.

"My Lord," she began, "My name is Meera Reed, and this is my brother, Jojen. Howland Reed is our father."

"Your father was a good and loyal friend to my father. Continue," replied Robb.

"We are at your service, my Lord, and we beg your hospitality. We are weary from travelling."

"It shall be done."

Bran could not shake the feeling that the boy was important somehow, and he had not taken his eyes off Bran since the moment he came in, but soon they were sent off to rest. He will see them tonight, at Dinner, he was sure of it. He wanted to talk to the both of them. They were significant in some way, he could feel it.

Neither of them showed up at dinner, and he still had not had a chance to talk to them when he was taken to bed, as he drifted off to sleep, he resolved that he would see them tomorrow if he had to crawl to their lodgings with but the strength of his arms. His eyes closed, and darkness took hold of his vision, and consciousness.

_He was a wolf, in a cage. The smells of Winterfell filled his nose. He longed to be free, to run and hunt. Two people he did not know approached the cage. Their smells were completely alien to his canine nose, but he did know them, Brandon realised. It was Jojen and Meera._

_ "What are you so afraid of, Jojen? It's in a cage."_

_ "I know, but ever since the night I dreamt he arrived, I can't see my death. I could die at any time. I must be very careful."_

_ "Not having dreams that tell the future. Must be terrible. How can you possibly survive under such conditions?" Meera lightly punched her brother's arm, but he was still just as serious._

_ "I still have the greensight, but it's...gone fuzzy. It shows multiple things happening at once. Sometimes I dream of a wolf getting its head ripped off by lions, but it changes into a lion getting bullied to death by stags. We can't waste any more time. I must teach Bran to unlock his true potential as a Warg as the dreams showed me before this 'Doctor' showed up. I must go to King's Landing and speak to him. I need his influence on my greensight to cease. And I must convince all of Winterfell to let Bran come south with me."_

_ "And how are you going to do that, dear brother? Pray tell."_

_ "I'm not," replied Jojen, staring right at the wolf in front of him. Staring right at Bran. "Bran is."_

Bran awoke the next morning, called for Hodor, was helped into his pouch on the stable-boy's back and commanded him to go to the main hall. He needed to talk to his brother.

Robb was sitting at his father's seat as per usual, receiving reports of rising tensions between Stark and Lannister following the kidnapping of Tyrion Lannister by his mother, and his father's injury at the hands of Tyrion's brother Jaime. Thankfully, they had not come to war yet, but it wouldn't take much to set them off. Bran approached him.

"Brother, I need to leave Winterfell."

"Explain yourself," said Robb, sending his advisors and messengers away and focusing all of his attention on Bran.

"It's my dreams. Jojen can help me make sense of them."

"It'll be dangerous."

"I'm not afraid!"

"Bran, your place is here, in Winterfell. You are a Stark."

"A broken Stark! And I don't want to be a Lord! I want to ride!" There was a silence between them. "...Please, Robb. Let me ride..."

The arrangements were soon made. Bran was to ride south with Jojen and Meera using the saddle Tyrion gave him. Hodor would also be sent, as well as Theon Greyjoy, his father's ward and like a brother to Robb and Bran in all but blood. He'd been sent with them for protection. He'd proved his worth in that field saving Bran from wildlings, one of which, named Osha, was taken prisoner. Bran liked her, but Robb didn't trust her enough with such a task, as he trusted Theon, to his mother's annoyance. 'Never trust a Greyjoy', he'd heard her say more than once.

The five set off the next morning. Jojen looked like he'd hardly slept. He walked close to Bran. Theon was busy attempting to make conversation (flirt) with Meera, and failing from the sounds of it. Hodor was simply walking beside Bran's horse, smiling with the bliss that comes from being so ignorant of the world's evil. He's happy because he's simple.

"So, who is this 'Doctor'?" Bran finally asked Jojen. Jojen didn't seem to hear him for a few seconds, but then he turned to the young Prince.

"The Doctor is an outsider. He's not from Westeros, or Essos. He's from beyond the sky, and beyond the gods. All I saw of him in my last green dream was a blue box that contained...everything. All of the past, and all of the future. I didn't even see what this Doctor looked like. I just heard his name. It was whispered by the forest around the blue box in the most...surreal voice. A voice that was friendly and angry and safe and dangerous..."

Jojen stopped telling the story, as he'd passed out. Hodor carried him from then on. Theon, sensing he was getting nowhere with Meera, approached Bran.

"That one isn't a good traveller, it seems," mused Theon, tutting.

"He is," retorted Meera, her voice already hinting at a dislike for the Greyjoy boy, "He just didn't sleep at all last night."

Bran carried on, once again in silence. He had strange dreams too. He wondered if the three-eyed raven had anything to do with this, but this 'Doctor'... He sounded much stranger than anything Bran had ever heard of.

It's a long way to King's Landing," Bran finally said, spurring his house into a canter. "Come on. We need to make good time."


	5. Peri

**PERI**

The Doctor had been in the library, reading for hours. Peri had come and gone at least six times in all that. The Doctor insisted that it was very important to know the history of this realm, and she understood his point. He was relentless. Not only that, he was a very fast reader, starting and finishing gigantic, dusty tomes within the same minute. He had read most of the library by the time he finally put the book he was holding down and asked for a cup of tea. A serving boy came to him with a wooden cup filled with something red and very sweet smelling. He drank it regardless.

The large oaken desk was piled up with so many book and scrolls that there was barely any wood visible. The books in question ranged from leather bound and well documented histories in good condition, and that looked like they were very recently published and bound, to old, withered collections of browning pages bound crudely with string, containing crude handwriting in a language she couldn't read. The doctor finally looked up from the table.

"Probably not best to wander around, Peri. We're strangers here. We haven't earned trust, and the King was assassinated during a council meet not three days ago."

"What, you honestly don't think they'd suspect us, do you?" She asked in reply as the Doctor sighed and shut the book he was reading.

"They have no reason to, but you've been travelling with me long enough to know our luck."

"Your luck," she retorted sharply. "You're the one who gets us into these situations."

"My dear Peri, the kingdom is in disarray. The House of Lannister is demanding that Cersei be released, and the House of Baratheon wants retribution for their dead king. Tensions are very high. There are already rumours that alliances are being struck out. War is very likely. Are you honestly suggesting that we leave and abandon everyone in Westeros to that fate?"

"I...I...I..." Peri looked at the floor and fell silent. She hadn't thought of it like that.

"No," said the Doctor. "We have to stay. We have to help bring peace as quickly as possible. Only then will I be comfortable leaving."

Despite all the times he drives her nuts, or flaunts his ego, or acts pompous, it was times like these when Peri saw who the Doctor really was, and thanked him for it. She smiled, and nodded.

Just then, the doors to the library burst open. Ned Stark hobbled in, leaning heavily on his cane, notably no longer wearing the pin of the Hand. Varys was behind him, and another man, who Peri didn't recognize, though from the Doctor's face, he did. The Doctor bowed in respect.

"Your Grace," he started, his manners much better than she had ever known them, "I am the Doctor, and this is my assistant, Peri. Peri, this is King Stannis Baratheon."

Peri bowed at this stranger, who the Doctor had now identified as the king. His clothes were still wet, and smelled of salt. She guessed he must have just arrived here. And they wasted no time crowning him. Things were coldly and systematically done. What are mourning and bereavement when there is a country to be run? It was all...disturbingly close to Earth's way. A shiver went down her spine, but she didn't show it.

"Let's not waste time. I don't have much. Both Eddard and Varys say you're smart. Do you know anything about money?"

"More than anybody else here, I'll wager. Why?"

Stannis nodded, satisfied with that answer. "Good. You're the new Master of Coin. I don't know you so I have no grounds to trust you but I don't mistrust you either. I mistrusted the old one for years, and quickly looking through the books I found out he gained his glowing reputation by putting the crown in serious dept with the Lannisters, who are our enemies, and the Iron Bank of Braavos, who will fund our enemies if we don't pay them back. It's now your job to fix it. I expect to see you at tomorrow's council with a progress report."

And with that the King left, along with Eddard and Varys. The Doctor wasted no time in marching straight to the office of the Master of Coin, where Petyr 'Littlefinger' Baelish was still removing his affects. Before either of them said a word to each other, The Doctor turned to Peri. "You might want to go off and explore, Peri. Talk of money will not interest you. I will come and find you when we're done."

And that's how Peri found herself idling around the Castle. She was growing sick of the looks the highborns were giving her, and comments they made about her dress sense. Okay, so it was...shorter...that the norm in this time period. She should get a dress made. But to get a dress made, she'd need gold. Maybe she could go into the city, and find a job. Would there be a job that required botany? As she was thinking this, she heard commotion, and a child crying out. She raced toward the sound without a second thought. What she saw made her heart wrench. Two fully clad knights were beating a small child. Peri yelled out before her brain had a chance to analyse the situation.

"Hey! HEY! What the hell do you think you're doing?!"

The knights turned to her. One laughed, but the other remained deathly serious. "She's a Lannister."

"And that's an excuse to beat a small, defenceless girl?!"

The knights were taken aback by Peri's fearlessness and anger. They were about to make a move forward when there was another voice. This one, Peri recognized. It was Renly Baratheon. She'd seen him here and there in the three days she'd been in this castle. He was always friendly and courteous. He struck her as the kind of man who, if he was king, would be loved by all, but wouldn't make a good king. From what little she's seen of his elder brother Stannis, he seemed no nonsense and seemed to value his time. Her jury was still out on him.

The Knights scattered, and Renly helped the little girl up, but she flinched away from him.

"You locked my mommy up!" She yelled into his face, before running into Peri's arms. Peri shot an apologetic look at Renly, before picking the little girl up and hugging her.

"It's okay," she whispered in a soothing voice. "Nobody's going to hurt you now."

Renly nodded, seeing that the situation was under control, and went after the offending knights. Peri starting walking towards where she thought the Maester's chamber was. Since Pycelle had been found guilty of poisoning King Robert, he'd been sent to rot in jail, and a new Maester had been put in his place; Maester Gormon. Peri understood a little of the reasoning. Gormon was a Tyrell, and Renly was hoping to form an alliance with the Tyrells against the Lannisters. They really did seem to want war an awful lot. It was their plan A, and there was no plan B.

Peri looked down at the girl she had rescued. She felt a little rude having not introduced herself.

"I'm Peri. Peri Brown. What's your name?"

"Myrcella," the girl replied cheerfully, already warming in Peri's presence, "Myrcella Baratheon."

Peri frowned. Even with the truth having become public knowledge, this girl still didn't want to call herself Lannister. Given the current circumstances, Peri couldn't blame her. Still, given the more recent circumstances, she probably didn't find much comfort in the name 'Baratheon' either. Poor girl.


	6. Jaime

**JAIME**

Casterly Rock was a magnificent castle. It was like a Lord in of itself, dressed up in decorations, finery and tapestries, and perched up on the large stony hill as if it were a Lord's seat. It even seemed to be shining like gold as the pale brick and red sandstone worked in tandem with the setting sun.

'Fitting for the seat of my father,' thought Jaime, riding on horseback beside his father. Tywin Lannister was the richest and most powerful man in Westeros. Even more powerful than the king, people said. It was true that Stannis did not have his people's love the way either of his brothers had. He was going to have to prove himself as a king. Not that Jaime would give him a chance. And that was why he was here, and not back in King's Landing. Stannis wasn't stupid. He wasn't going to put the Kingslayer in any position to slay him straight after arresting his own sister. Nevertheless, Jaime wanted somebody to pay for Cersei's incarceration.

He arrived at the Castle, was helped off his horse and went straight to his room, while his father went to meet with Kevan Lannister and the bannermen of the West. He couldn't stop thinking about his sister, and every time he did, he grew angry. Curse Stannis. And Curse the Starks for kidnapping his brother. He wanted both of his siblings returned.

After a bath, Jaime pulled on a loose-fitting woollen tunic and brown breeches, an outfit for comfort more than fashion, and made his way out into the courtyard. There were bards taking the time to practice their material while nobody was paying them mind. There were maids washing linen and silks in large pales of hot water and leaving them to dry in the warm air. Squires were fighting with wooden swords, whilst kids older than them were chasing each other round the statues, simply having fun. Jaime was reminded of his days as a squire to Sumner Crakehall. He remembered he had more than a little envy of noble children who did as they liked, not as they were ordered. He had no idea how much freedom he actually had at the time.

It was a pleasantly warm day, but Jaime knew that winter was coming. He thought back to his siblings, and to Ned Stark. There would be repercussions of his maiming of Ned Stark. His father had said as much. He would have to climb in his father's favour for this, he knew.

He decided to pay his father a visit. Tywin's seat of office had recently moved. It used to on one of the higher floors of the main tower, up a lot of steps, but Tywin had moved it to the second floor for 'convenience'. The sad truth was that the richest and arguably most powerful man in Westeros was getting old.

He waited outside as directed by a steward, until Kevan and his host left, then he knocked thrice and entered. Lord Tywin was examining a map. He didn't even look up.

"I know what you're going to say, Jaime, and the answer is no. I won't make any movement to demand Cersei's freedom. Nor Tyrion's. Cersei was a fool who believed this was all a game, and even more foolishly believed she was good at it. Look where she is now. Thanks to her, Casterly Rock is faced with the prospect of war, we have lost favour with the common people, and with the Starks and the Tullys already having grievances with us, and the Tyrells rushing at the chance to get their thorny roots into King's Landing, that's four of the seven kingdoms already against us. If Stannis Baratheon hadn't locked my daughter up, I would have.

However, I have no desire to look craven or worried. A house is only as srong as its lord, and I remain quite strong. I will demand that every Western man, woman and child in King's Landing be given safe passage back, including **your** three bastard children born of incest. This is not an unreasonable demand, and Stannis will be glad to see the back of them, and we can all carry on without blood being shed. He might not want you near to him either. I know you take your vows seriously, but you must stay within these walls for as long as I command it."

"What about family?" Jaime asked. "You always stressed the importance of family. Now you're content to leave two of your own children in the hands of the enemy?"

"They will not harm Cersei. I will see to that. When temperaments have died down, I will see to getting her pardoned. Until then, she will stay in a cell, and be grateful that her position is keeping her alive. As for Tyrion..." Tywin sighed angrily, annoyed by something. "...Ask Maester Creylen. I don't even want to breathe life into this news."

His father loved to talk, Jaime knew. He didn't have conversations. He talked at you, and you listened and agreed if you knew what was good for you. Jaime went to find Maester Creylen. His father had given Jaime the impression that the Maester knew of Tyrion, and if Tywin didn't like it, it was probably good news. He knocked on the door to the Maester's chamber, and then entered.

Maester Creylen struck Jaime as young. In truth he was middle aged, but compared to Grand Maester Pycelle, he was certainly young. There were still plenty of fair hairs on his head amongst the white ones. There were plenty of younger Maesters, however. Jaime bowed his head in greeting, but before he could speak, Creylen spoke first.

"You must have come because of the rumor. You and master Tyrion were always very close. There's a raven from your brother. He sent it from the Riverlands. The message said that he won his freedom by trial by combat, and is riding to Casterly rock with a small force of sellswords."

Jaime smiled. This was excellent news. One more lion was coming home.


End file.
